Dance With the Devil
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Lucifer is free and has a body... Sam
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own them…**

_**Supernatural**_

He opened the door, a familiar face looking directly at him. He never thought it would come down to this, having to do exactly what he was asked to do three years before. His hands were wrapped around the colt, a special gift from Castiel. The angel had become one of his closest allies since all the mayhem started. Him, Anna, and Bobby, but none of them could help him now; he had to do this on his own.

"Going to kill me, Winchester?" the familiar voice sent a spiral of chills up his spine. He had to do it, couldn't chicken out, the human race depended on it. So, hands shaking, he raised the colt and whispered, "I'm sorry," before pulling the trigger.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

**1 week earlier…**

The light was blinding, but Dean ignored it as he tried to pull his brother out of the door. Then it all just stopped. Everything was still as the convent came back into focus.

"Come on, Sam," Dean muttered, breathing hard, still trying to push his brother out the door.

"Sammy's not here right now," Sam's voice replied. Before Dean could really register the words, he was hit in the face by a fist. The hit lifted him off his feet, slamming him into a cement wall. The breath was knocked out of him, making him involuntarily gasp.

"You know, Dean, I really must thank you. If you hadn't of started all this then I wouldn't be free. Of course, Sammy had a hand to." Lucifer, as Dean could only figure had possessed his brother, looked down at Lilith's dead body. "And Ruby, I guess." His eyes flicked over to Ruby's body, Dean having stabbed her moments before. "I gotta say, though, I owe you Winchester everything." Lucifer's eyes, Sam's eyes, flicked back to Dean, a smile on his face.

"Get the… the fuck outta him," Dean managed to get out. His breathing was coming back just not as fast as he wanted. Dean tried to get to his feet, but his legs wouldn't support him. Lucifer just rolled his eyes and hauled Dean to his feet.

Dean tried to attack, but Lucifer was too fast. He deflected the punch and used both Sam's strength and his own demonic powers to throw Dean into another cement wall. Besides the wind getting knocked out of him the second time, Dean also slammed his head into one of the bricks. He saw stars-_I actually thought that was only in the movies_-and tried to blink them away. He vaguely felt blood dripping down his face.

Struggling to stay conscious, Dean tried to sit up. A wave of nausea and dizziness sent him crashing back to the ground. The stars were replaced by black dots that threatened to take over. Amongst the black dots, Dean watched Lucifer cross the room. The demon-in his brother's body-crouched next to Dean's head and whispered, "I'm not going to kill you Dean. At least, not yet. You see, for a…I can't exactly say demon...a _fallen _angel I like to repay my debts. I really do. And you, my friend, I owe. You see you broke the first seal, you didn't kill your brother when you had the chance, hell you got rid of every obstacle that led to this. Plus, you died which brought out Sammy's dark side. Now, I know that's a lot to repay…" Dean drifted off cutting out Lucifer's speech.

"Hey, no sleeping yet," Lucifer said and shook Dean's shoulder. He jerked awake, feeling weaker than before. When Lucifer was satisfied Dean wasn't going to pass out again he continued, "I am going to start repaying that debt by not killing you. That should be enough for now."

Lucifer got to his feet, directing Sam's body toward the exit. Before Dean finally succumbed to the inevitable darkness, Lucifer turned around and said, "I thank you so much, Dean. Without you none of this would be possible. Your daddy would be so proud." Then he was gone and Dean was out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Still not mine…**

_**Supernatural**_

When he came to, he felt sick to his stomach. He was sure it wasn't entirely because of the pounding in his head, but he couldn't quite remember what else could make him sick. Then recent events hit him like a ton of bricks and his eyes snapped open. He sat up too quickly, the room spinning like a tilt-a-whirl, and said, "Sam?"

"Hey, hey, you're okay," a familiar voice said. He felt a pair of hands push him back. He didn't try to fight back, the dizziness made him want to puke. Once lying down, Anna's face swam into focus. He couldn't quite remember the last time he saw her.

"Where am I?" he asked once the initial shock of seeing Anna was gone. He needed to get his position in check, so he can start making plans to find Sam and expel Lucifer out of him.

"Bobby's," Anna replied softly. He felt something wet hit his face and was sure that Anna was cleaning up the blood that had fallen on it. It felt so good he almost nodded off again, but Sam's face swam in his vision and he jerked awake asking, "How'd I get here?"

"I brought you here," she said and the washcloth was gone. Dean could hear her swishing it around in a bowl of water, heard her wring it out, knew she was stalling. When the cloth was back on his head she said, "All angels have been grounded until further notice."

"What?"

"We have all been sent to earth, we're supposed to be fighting. Instead of that, I tracked you down." She continued to clean his blood away, not looking him in the eyes.

"Have you seen or heard from Cass?" he asked remembering the last time he saw the angel. They had been a Chuck's and an ark angel had been almost upon them. He had failed to do what Castiel asked and now they were in the middle of a war, an apocalyptic war.

Anna was quiet for a moment, wringing out his blood again, and then the cloth was back a third time and she said, "He was here when I first brought you here."

"Was he? So, he's okay," Dean asked sounding relieved. He didn't want to be responsible for Castiel's death. It was kind of his fault the angel was in trouble-if he was-because he had talked him into going against the other angels.

"Yes, the ark angel was pulled away before he could do anything. Castiel left Chuck and headed to find you. I had already taken care of you, so he wasn't sure where you were. At first he thought you were dead, that Lucifer had killed you…"

"What made him change his mind," Dean asked starting to hate being out of the loop. He should have tried harder to stay awake, tried to stop Lucifer from walking out with Sam in toe. Should have convinced Sam to not trust Ruby in the first place. Should have never agreed to torture souls. Should have put more effort into stopping himself from going to hell in the first place.

The "should have" game kept playing in his head, and he wasn't aware he had started crying until Anna wiped tears off his face and said, "This is not your fault."

"B…but I broke the first seal," he said in a small voice, ready to bury his head in the sand and give up. He was the one who started all this. Cass told him, Alastair told him, Lucifer thanked him… it was all his fault Lilith went on her seal breaking crusade. Just the thought of it had him crying harder.

Anna gently pulled him up, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She gently stroked his hair and mumbled, "Many people make mistakes. And if the angels wanted this war to happen, like Zachariah told you, then they would have found another way."

"H…how did you…" he started pulling away from her.

"Castiel told me before he left. I always told him to question every ordered he had been given. That even our father was capable of this. No one is perfect, no one.

"So, stop crying and help us. We need to find a way to send Lucifer back into hell before he can completely destroy the world."

Dean wiped his eyes on his sleeve, took a deep, shuddering breath, and said, "How do we do that without hurting Sam?"

Anna was quiet for a moment as she stood. She took the bowl of water and washcloth out of the room. Dean watched her go, propped up on Bobby's couch's arm. He wasn't sure he could make it off the couch to follow Anna. But he would try, he needed answers. He couldn't kill his brother.

So, he slid to the edge of the couch, ignoring the slight dizzy feeling it made, and used the couch's arm to pull himself up. In a bent over position the room spun slowly, but not enough to send him straight back into the couch. So, he straightened up and nearly fell over again.

A pair of hands grabbed his elbow, helping him back onto the couch. Anna sat next to him, giving him a stern look, and she said, "You could have fallen over."

"I needed answers," Dean said quietly, wanting to kick himself at how whiney he had sounded.

"Fine, Castiel's out looking for something that will help you kill Lucifer…"

"Without hurting Sam, right?" Dean asked sick and tired of hearing Anna imply that they might have to kill his little brother.

"Look, Dean, I am sure we can find a way to save Sam and kill Lucifer," Anna said softly stroking the back of his head. He knew she was just giving him empty promises, letting him hear what he wanted, but he had to grasp onto some hope that they would save Sam. He couldn't live without his brother, Sam was all he had.

He wasn't sure how long they sat in silence after that, Anna just stroking his hair and him trying not to break down, again. It wasn't until the door open that they moved. Anna was on her feet in seconds, Dean trying to see who was coming.

Bobby came around the corner, carrying a bag of food and a newspaper. He froze when he spotted Dean awake. Both food and paper fell to the floor and he was at Dean's side in seconds. He pulled the older Winchester up; embracing him like a father would a son. It took Dean a couple seconds to realize that Bobby had broken down. That the tough hunter he had grown to believe was as indestructible as his own father was having a human moment. Dean hadn't seen the old hunter this vulnerable since Sam died and Dean made the deal to bring him back. Just the thought of the deal made his stomach clench.

He suddenly pulled out of Bobby's embrace, feeling dirty and tainted. He fell back onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. He saw stars as he pressed his palms into his eyelids. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but the sound of paper rustling and Anna saying, "This is not good," brought him back to reality. He looked up, the room momentarily dark as his sight came back into focus.

Anna was holding the paper-the one Bobby had dropped moments before-and reading the front page. She had a grim look on her face, one that made Dean really regret looking up. She shared a quick glance with Bobby then rushed out of the room. The paper fluttered to the floor, having fallen out of her hands seconds before.

"What did she see," Dean asked suddenly regretting the answer.

"This," Bobby muttered picking the paper up. Dean could tell the older hunter was reluctant to show him, but he would just keep pestering him until he did. Dean took the paper out of Bobby's hands and read: **Three-hundred dead in mysterious collapse of New York bridge**.

Dean's eyes widened, he couldn't breathe. He let the paper fall to the floor, putting his head between his knees to stop from puking-or passing out. Lucifer was already starting, which made him really question how long he was out.

When his breathing was under control, when he was sure he wasn't going to blow chunks all over Bobby, he looked up and whispered, "How long was I out?"

"A little over a day," Bobby replied hoarsely as he picked up the paper and tossed it onto his desk. He sat next to Dean and said, "It's not the only thing he has done."

"What else has he done?" Dean didn't want to know, but he had to. Sam was behind this, if not intentionally, and he had to know how many pieces he had to pick up when-_and damn it I will_-he saved his brother from this fate.

Bobby sighed, hesitant to give Dean what he wanted, but decided to get it over with. Like ripping a bandage off. He grabbed Dean under the arm, helped him to his feet, and helped the younger hunter into his library. They walked to his computer, its screen saver putting on a pipe show. Bobby moved the mouse and the computer came to life. He pushed Dean into the chair and leaned over him to click onto the internet.

Dean watched as Bobby clicked on a link. What popped up was: **Mysterious disease hits New Jersey: thirty dead, one-hundred infected.** Before Dean could get over that news, Bobby was clicking onto another link.** Gas explosion in Boston: Eighty dead, city in panic.** Three more links said things similar to that. Lucifer was working hard, and in less than two days he had managed to kill over a thousand people.

It was too much for Dean. Ignoring the fact that standing nearly made him collapsed, or that Bobby was standing behind him. He was one his feet in seconds, racing into the bathroom. He dropped to his knees, skidding across the bathroom floor, and was throwing up the meager contents of his stomach into Bobby's toilet.

When his stomach was empty, he dropped to the floor. He wrapped both arms around his stomach, pulling his knees up. He couldn't believe how much damage one fallen angel could do in just a few hours. _One fallen angel with millions of demons at his disposal_, he thought bitterly. A new wave of tears hit, making his whole body shake.

He heard a pair of feet walking up to him, and felt someone sit next to his head. Her hands gently stroked his hair, letting him have his break down. Anna didn't say anything, didn't bother his moment, let him get it all out before she said, "Cass is back."

"Okay," Dean managed to whisper. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and just lied there. He didn't want to move, didn't want to deal with anymore angels. He just wanted to sleep, to stay asleep so he didn't have to deal with demons, fallen angels, regular angels, anything.

"I'll let you come out when you're ready," Anna said quietly and got to her feet. Dean heard her leave, but he made no effort to follow her. He just let his eyes slide shut, let the dizziness overwhelm him, and he blacked out.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Anna stepped into Bobby's library. Bobby was sitting at his computer chair, looking at a gun sitting on his desk. Anna hadn't seen the gun in forever, sure that it was lost to all. She had no idea how Castiel managed to get it, what he had to do, but it was in their possession again.

Her eyes lingered on the colt for a few more seconds before they fell upon Castiel. He was sitting on Bobby's couch, head leaning against the back, eyes closed. He looked tired, something most angels never looked, and didn't acknowledge Anna's presence.

"How is he," Bobby asked before Anna could say anything. He had broken away from the colt, looking directly at Anna.

"He's coping," Anna replied still looking at Castiel. He hadn't moved an inch, he looked like he was asleep, but Anna knew better. She waited patiently until Cass opened his eyes, lifted his head, and fixed his gaze on her.

"Anna," was all he said.

"Where have you been, Cass," Anna asked curiously.

"Getting that," Castiel replied simply nodding his head toward the colt.

"I see that, but how did you get it."

"We don't have time for your questions. We need to find Lucifer and kill him. We can't let this battle go on, millions could die." Castiel was on his feet looking frustrated. Anna knew how much history Cass had with Lucifer, what the angel almost did. She didn't blame his sour mood, but she still couldn't just allow Dean to lose Sam.

"What makes you think that gun will work?" Anna asked barely glancing at the colt. She wasn't sure how much power the colt would have on Lucifer.

"What makes you think it won't," Castiel responded wearily, sitting back on the couch.

"He can't do it," Anna said slowly. She knew Castiel planned to have Dean kill Lucifer, he was already discussed among the angels. Dean started it all, he had to finish it.

"He has to," Castiel said under his breath. He was slowly going from frustrated to angry, Anna knowing exactly where that emotion could lead.

"But it's his brother…"

"Sam or not, he has to die. Lucifer was never supposed to walk free, let alone kill all these people. He's not the only one acting, you know that Anna. He's got his demons, his army, running around killing these people, too. If we don't stop him, get him to stop controlling these demons, then there will be no world to save before long. Dean will kill Lucifer: Sam or not."

"And if he refuses?"

"He won't, not after a while. His conscious will eventually beat out his love for his brother. Sam would want this anyway. He wouldn't want to be involved in all of this…"

"I don't think you know what Sam would want," Bobby interrupted. His voice was a mere growl, his fists clenched. Anna could almost see Bobby grabbing the colt and shooting Cass just out of spite alone.

Calmly, Anna could never figure out why Cass did that, he looked Bobby in the eyes and said, "Sam begged Dean to kill him so many times a few years ago. Always told him that if he went evil, to do away with him. Sam Winchester broke the last seal, he brought upon the apocalypse. He is possessed by Lucifer, he must die." So little compassion went into Castiel's voice. It was like he was taking about an evil demon, not Sam. Not someone who was just possessed.

"Then you should have killed me, too," a hoarse voice said from behind Anna. She slowly turned around to see Dean, leaning into the wall, watching the argument. He looked pale, looked exhausted, and just looked too young for his thirty-year-old self. Almost like he was six again, so scared of the outside world.

"Why?" Castiel asked playing dumb. Anna turned around in time to see something like sympathy flicker across his face before it was gone.

"Because, I started all the seal breaking. I was the one to break the first seal. Me, not Sam. If I would have just let them continue torturing me, kept refusing Alastair's offer, then none of this crap would have happened. So, in a sense, this is my fault." Dean pulled away from the wall, walking to the middle of the room. He stopped inches from Castiel, holding his arms out to expose torso. He looked Castiel in the eyes, blue looking into green, and said, "Why not kill me. The colt's right there. Why don't you pick it up and shoot me."

Bobby tensed; Anna knew that he was ready to push Dean down if Castiel tried. The angel, however, kept his eyes locked on Dean's. He was calm, collecting his thoughts. The waiting was pissing Dean off. "Come, Cass, shoot me. If Sam has to die for finishing off the seals, then kill me for starting them." Cass still hadn't moved, was still staring at Dean calmly. "If you don't do it, I'll do it myself."

Before Dean could take the seven or eight steps to pick up the colt, Bobby had already scooped it up and Castiel had laid a hand on his forehead. Dean collapsed, Castiel catching him before he fell to the ground.

"I want you to hide that somewhere safe. We're going to need it later," Castiel said not looking at Bobby. He dragged Dean over to the couch, depositing him into the cushions. He headed toward the exit, Anna quickly turning to face him and asking, "Where are you going?"

"To find Lucifer," was all Castiel said before he was gone. Anna sighed, turning back to Bobby who was taking the colt over to a painting. He pulled the painting back, reveling a safe. She didn't watch him open it, already crossing the room to sit next to Dean. She knew how much he was hurting, knew all he wanted to do was keep his brother safe, but she had to agree with Cass. The only way to save Sam was to kill him. And Dean was going to be the one to do it, whether he liked it or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Nope, not mine…**

_**Supernatural**_

Sam was in a dark, desolated part of his brain. He could see out his eyes, could think with his brain, but he couldn't control his own movements. He had watched as Lucifer directed his body-the one he wasn't even sure was his anymore-to do some of the most horrible things he had seen. He also watched Lucifer, using his voice, command an army of demons to do more of the ghastly things.

Sam didn't even attempt to beg Lucifer to leave him like he did with Meg. There was no point, he deserved this fate. He deserved it because he caused it and he would be grateful when Dean and the angels found a way to kill him. It was what should have been done to begin with.

_"Oh, Sammy, don't be such a gloomy beaver,"_ a familiar voice said, echoing off the dark, interior of his "prison."

"Hello," he called. Or at least tried to, his voice didn't work.

_"It's so much fun being you, I wouldn't dream of Dean spoiling any of it." _Lucifer was using Sam's voice to communicate, taunting him with his own vocals.

"Where's Dean," he tried again. The attempt was futile; he just didn't have control over anything anymore.

_"Dean's fine," _Lucifer said softly, probably picking up on Sam's weak brainwaves. The fallen angel was so relaxed, almost like discussing the weather with his unwilling host. _"Physically, he's fine. Mentally, not so much. You know he won't kill you."_ Lucifer scoffed and continued, "_Like there is a manmade way to kill me anyway…_

_ "You know, Sammy. You are really boring. I mean really boring. The last victim I took over-a long, long, long time ago-had put up more of a fight than you are. There's no 'Let me go, please.' No bargaining, nothing. You're almost dead."_

Sam didn't reply. There was no point explaining to the fallen angel that he deserved this fate, that whatever happened to his body would be okay as long as he couldn't hurt anybody anymore. That he wished more than anything that Dean had just let him die at Cold Oak instead of making the deal. There was just no point.

_"No point, Sammy. We share one body now, everything you think matters to me. Besides, if Dean had never made that deal, we wouldn't be here. And as for you deserving this fate, I think I deserve it a little more. I mean, isn't earth such a beautiful place? A beautiful place full of ungrateful humans who are so selfish of their own needs they fail to see the way they are tearing the world apart. If you hadn't of raised me, one of them would have._

_ "Besides, it's only a matter of time before God comes down and starts smiting the wicked… Oh, wait, he doesn't do that anymore. I mean, have you seen one clue that he's about to help? His angels are killing each other, are trying to start Armageddon by themselves, and all he did was sit back and allow it. Man, what has this world come to?"_

Sam heard a soft laugh and then the voice was gone, he was left alone in the quiet confines of his possessed brain. He just wished he could sleep, to block out everything that was going on and not have to deal with it. But, he had a feeling Lucifer was making sure he stayed awake, making sure he saw what was going on, what he caused.

So, instead of doing what he wanted, he watched. He watched and hoped Dean would do something fast…

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Shining light nearly blinded him when he opened his eyes. It had to be early morning, a lot earlier from when he first woke up. He sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and pulled back in surprise when he spotted Castiel sitting by his feet.

"Good morning, Dean," Cass said not looking at him. Dean pulled his legs toward him, drawing his knees to his chest. "What do you want now? Going to try and convince me to throw myself in front of a bus? Or, better yet, push Bobby off the Grand Canyon…"

"Sam's not Sam anymore," Castiel muttered ignoring Dean's sarcasm. He glanced over at the hunter, his blue eyes drilling into Dean's green ones. Dean broke eye contact first, looking at a spot somewhere above Castiel's head.

"He's still Sam, all we have to do is find a way to save him," Dean whispered sounding, even to his own ears, like a small child again. With enough hope that he believed he could will the bad away. He wished his dad was there, John may have been a hard ass sometimes but when he was around Dean always believed anything was possible.

"Do you think Sam would want to live after what he has done," Cass asked curiously. He looked away from Dean, looking up at the ceiling.

"He didn't know what he was doing," Dean snapped getting to his feet. He started pacing furiously, not even looking at the dark haired angel.

"Deep down he knew." Dean could feel the angel's eyes on him again, could hear the weariness and impatience in the angel's voice, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to kill Sam.

"No, he didn't."

"Fine, he didn't. But I still can't say he did not bring this fate upon himself."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"He was asked not to use his powers. Even ordered, and he still used them. He still listened to Ruby. How many times did you beg him not to trust Ruby, even before you died? Deep down, Dean, you knew there wasn't a reason to trust Ruby…"

"Deep down, Cass, I actually believed she was different," Dean snapped sick and tired of the angel's voice. He was still pacing, the steps getting quicker and quicker. He wanted to punch something, wanted to punch Castiel-but that would probably result in a broken hand.

"Look, I realize he's your brother and you love him, but he's also evil. Plain and simple as that…"

"So, just because he isn't squeaky clean like the angels… Opps, I forgot, the angels aren't exactly squeaky clean are they?"

"Subconsciously you know you must kill him in order to stop this. So, when you finally figure that out he'll be somewhere here." Castiel pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, set it on Bobby's desk, and was gone.

"Thanks for nothing," Dean screamed at the empty room slamming his fist into Bobby's wall. His knuckles broke through the drywall, his hand screaming in pain. He pulled his fist out, his knuckles bloody, hand shaking, and sank onto the couch. He buried his face in his hands, trying to keep his anger in check

"What the hell was that," a voice said causing him to look up. Bobby was standing in the entryway, eyeing Dean's bloody hand and the hole in the wall. "Jeez boy, trying to break my house?"

"I can't kill him, Bobby," Dean muttered cradling his injured hand to his stomach. He looked at the floor, the dull throb in his hand making its self known.

"Yeah, I know you can't," Bobby said softly. He walked toward his desk, extracting his first-aid kit from one of the drawers. He headed back to the young hunter, sitting next to him. He took Dean's hand gently, the young hunter letting him.

"He's been my responsibility for twenty-six years," Dean muttered as Bobby worked on his hand. The older hunter just let him talk, cleaning the blood with gauze and alcohol. "Ever since I carried him out of our house the night Mom died."

"Yeah, I know," Bobby said quietly. He threw the bloody gauze on the floor and extracted a hand wrap. He wrapped Dean's hand, listening to the older Winchester's speech. "He's the only family I have left, the only one."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Bobby joked letting Dean's hand go. He picked up the bloody gauze and the first-aid kit.

"N…no, you're family. I just meant…"

"I know what you meant, Dean," Bobby said taking the kit back to his desk. He deposited the gauze in a trashcan next to the desk, half full of papers. He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms.

"I can't kill him," Dean repeated in a whisper. He cleared his throat, looking up at Bobby, and said, "But I might have to."

The comment surprised Bobby, but the older hunter didn't ask for an elaboration. He just let Dean talk, knowing he'd eventually get to the point. "He's possessed by someone who is killing innocent people, thousands of innocent people."

"I know."

"And if I don't stop him then he could destroy the world. I mean really destroy it. And I know, absolutely, positively know Sam can't live with that. He wouldn't live with that." It sounded like he was talking himself into the unspeakable, that Dean was about to do the one thing Bobby never thought he could. Before he could reply, Dean was talking again, "He'll forgive me, right? If I do what needs to be done. It was the one order I couldn't follow, but now I guess I have to." He was on his feet, crossing the room to the desk. With his uninjured hand, he picked up the paper Cass had left.

"You're going to do it?" Bobby asked hoarsely. He never thought he'd hear the words, never thought Dean would just give up.

"I have to," Dean said quietly. He kept his eyes locked on the paper, memorizing the area. He made a mental note to get on Sam's-_I guess it is mine now-_ computer, get directions. He started toward the exit, but Bobby called him back.

_Come on, if I wait too long I won't be able to do it_, he thought bitterly turning around. Bobby pushed the colt in his hands, murmuring, "If you're sure."

"I am," Dean whispered, for the first time in a while his eyes dry. "I absolutely am." He then walked away, grabbing his jacket off the arm of Bobby's couch. He pulled it on, pocketed the colt and the address, and walked out the door. Towards the end of his baby brother's life, towards the end of his own life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Only in my dreams will these characters be mine…**

_**Supernatural**_

Driving for the better part of the day, Dean pulled into a gas station's parking lot. He pulled up to a pump, turning his car off. He headed to the back and filled the Impala up. Dean headed into the station, stopping at the counter. Behind the counter was a tall, bald man. He was tinkering with a watch, one that looked clearly beyond repair. He looked up when Dean stopped, his brown eyes sweeping briefly across Dean's face.

"Just the gas," he asked in a deep, calming voice. Dean nodded, just not in the mood for talking. He watched the guy ring him up, letting his eyes drift to the papers. The front page made his heart start to hammer in his chest. He grabbed one and threw it on the counter.

"Such a shame," the bald man said slowly, "what your brother's doing." Dean's head snapped up looking into, not brown eyes, but a pair of beetle black eyes. He jerked back, tripping over his own feet. Dean fell to the ground, landing on his back side.

The demon walked around the counter, laughing darkly. Dean crab-crawled backwards, fumbling in his pocket for his flask of holy water. Before his hands could wrap around the familiar silver, he was yanked to his feet and thrown into a wall. Like a fly to a spider web, he was stuck and unable to move.

"I always wondered when that brother of yours would embrace his destiny," the demon said, a smirk on his face. His eyes were still black, like his pupils had just taken over entirely. Dean glared at the demon, breathing heavily.

"What, did you honestly think you could stop this? I mean, it was inevitable. The angels aiming for it, the demons aiming for it, it was going to happen. It was definitely going to happen. And now, the apocalypse is in full swing."

"I really hate demonic monologues," Dean muttered trying to fight the demon's hold on him. The demon rolled his eyes muttering, "Fine, no more talking." He moved his head to the right, sending Dean into a rack of chips. Doritos, Cheetos, Funyens, Fritos, and Dean flew all over the floor.

Dean rolled onto his back, extracted the one weapon he didn't want to use, and fired. The demon crumpled to the ground, dead seconds after the bullet pierced the middle of his forehead.

Dean shakily got to his feet, putting the colt into the inside pocket of his jacket. He took quick stock of himself, checking for non-existent injuries. Once he was sure he wasn't hurt, he felt a sinking sensation when he realized he had used one of the four precious bullets he had. _If I keep using bullets, I'll have nothing to stop Lucifer and Castiel will have gotten this gun for nothing, _he thought

"I've gotta get out of here," he murmured realizing that the cops would eventually show up. "_There's an apocalypse going on and you are worried about cops,"_ a voice that sounded like his brother said.

"Yeah, I am," Dean answered his inner voice not caring how crazy he sounded. He collected his paper and hurried out of the store.

_"Dean, I think the end of the world is worse than a bunch of cops finding a dead body," _the voice continued sounding weary.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean snapped starting his car and speeding out of the parking lot. Dean could almost see his brother roll his eyes. _"I am a figment of your imagination and you still tell me to shut up. Unbelievable."_

Dean ignored the voice, concentrating on driving. Like the real Sam, the voice would not be ignored. _"Can you kill me? Honestly? Because you couldn't when I was possessed by Meg, you couldn't when I was infected with that demonic virus, you just can't kill me."_

Still ignoring-what Dean was now guessing was a sign of going crazy-his voice he gripped the steering wheel tighter and put his foot to the floor. _"Besides, dude, with three bullets left you can't go around shooting any old demon."_

"I know," Dean snapped no longer incapable of ignoring the voice. He half expected Sam to appear in the passenger seat, scrolling through the countless articles he had already found on his computer or reading the paper Dean had-for all intents and purposes-stolen.

_"The last thing you want to hear, while driving, is all the crap Lucifer is doing,"_ his voice said.

"It's better to know the enemy than be in the dark," Dean muttered stopping at a stop sign. He looked both ways, looking for anything barreling down on him, and continued driving. Even in a hurry, he kept a look out for other vehicles. Since the semi accident he wasn't taking any chances.

_"You and your unhealthy obsession with the Impala." _Dean could almost see his brother roll his eyes, again.

"Hey, this car's saved your ass a couple times, so stop being such a dick about my obsessions. This is our home, our sanctuary, our…"

_"After twenty-six years of hearing this damn rant, I gotta say it gets old."_

Dean fell silent, deciding to go back to ignoring his inner voice. He glanced at the map on the dash, making sure he kept the directions precise, unable to handle the crushing blow if he got lost and Lucifer killed more people.

He heard the paper rustle and a voice say, "He's takingmost of the east off the map." Dean nearly crashed the car, turning to see Anna sitting in the passenger seat. His heart was thumping a hundred miles a minute, his eyes snapping back to the road.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," Dean muttered listening to his heart slow down back to the normal number of beats.

"I'm sorry. Bobby told me what you were going to do," Anna said softly. She continued to scan the paper, Dean hearing every intake of breath as she came across another world ending story.

"Don't tell me, an area has started raining down toads or something," Dean tried to joke. Anna didn't answer and when Dean looked over he found her gone, the paper fluttering back to the seat.

"I am sponsoring a 'buy a bell for the angels' fundraiser," Dean muttered irritated. His voice didn't reply, which made him wonder if the sight of the red headed angel snapped him out of his moment of insanity.

He continued driving, every so often checking the map. He kept wondering why his voice-his 'craziness is overtaking me' voice-wasn't talking to him anymore. Maybe like the real Sam, the voice got all bitchy when Dean was being stubborn.

Dean drove past a sign announcing his arrival into Lucifer's "hideout" around six. He wasn't a big fan of Ohio, always tried to avoid the state if he could. He drove past crumbling houses and broken establishments, trying to find out any area that Lucifer could be in.

The town had definitely seen better days. Some cars sat, abandoned on the side of the road. A couple had bodies hanging out the broken windows, blood dripping from their unmoving appendages. Dean had a fleeting image of a very bloody bread crumb trail, almost like Lucifer was expecting him. The only thing missing was a sign hanging over the town saying, "TOLEDO WELCOMES DEAN WINCHESTER."

The bloody trail stopped at a dilapidated shack, right on the outskirts of town. Dean knew a trap when he saw one; had _more_ than a feeling that Lucifer was expecting him. It was like the fallen angel was watching his every move.

"Well, this just plain sucks," Dean muttered getting out of his car. He pocketed the colt, kept his holy water at a hands reach, and quietly shut the door. He headed toward the shack, wondering if an army of demons were about to attack him.

The door had peeling green paint, the chips scraping across Dean's hand as he pushed it open. The hinges creaked almost inaudibly, but loud enough to make Dean cringe. He waited for the demons to attack, for them to just kill him.

The shack had one room and one room only. The furniture had been moved out, except a table, leaving the place lonelier than the outer appearance. On the table, which was sitting in the middle of the room, was a silver cell phone.

"What the hell," Dean muttered raising his eyebrows in curious confusion. Before he could dwell on it even more, the thing started ringing. Dean crossed the room in seconds, picking the plastic thing up. He flipped it open, the caller ID revealing a number he knew well, and said, "Where are you, you freak?"

"Oh, Dean, mind your tone," a familiar voice said. Dean felt his heart clench at just hearing Sam. He knew it wasn't Sam, but growing up with the voice was enough to make a feeling of dread settle over him.

"Where are you," Dean growled clutching the phone so tight he was sure it would break. He was shaking, whether with anger or anguish he wasn't sure.

"I'm around," Lucifer replied sounding mildly amused.

"When I get my hands on you…"

"Letting that sin take over you, anger, is very unhealthy. I had a feeling Castiel would make you come after me. How is that angel anyway?"

"A lot better than you'll be," Dean snapped turning when he heard the door creak. No one was standing in the threshold, but it was slightly ajar. Dean was sure he closed the door. "What, sending your demonic lackeys after me?"

"Oh, why would I do that? They have free reign on any hunter that stumbles upon them. They hurt you, they're just doing their job," Lucifer said, a laugh in his voice. Dean heard a floorboard creak and spun around to see nothing. That's when he felt the arm wrap around his windpipe.

"Bye, Dean," was the last thing he heard before he dropped the phone onto the wooden floor.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

One phone conversation changed everything for Sam. He had heard the exchange between Dean and Lucifer, then the choked sound coming from his brother, followed by Lucifer saying good-bye to Dean. He knew it was no use to fight against Lucifer, that the fallen angel had more power than Sam could ever imagine, but it didn't hurt to try.

"You can't hurt my brother," Sam tried to say, practically pleading with the fallen angel.

"_Sammy, I'm not doing anything to him. He walked into that shack; he's the one that has to suffer the consequences. I am glad to see you trying to fight me, you're attempt is frivolous, but I respect it nevertheless."_

Sam held onto hope that his brother would kill the demon and then come and finish Lucifer off. How, he wasn't sure. Especially after Lucifer already announced nothing human made could kill him, but there had to be something. There just had to be.

"_If threatening Dean was all it took to make you fight, then I should have done that a long time ago," _Lucifer said sounding nearly amused. _"But, honestly, what are the odds of Dean getting out of that situation alive. Slim to none."_

He obviously didn't know Dean. Sam had seen his brother get out of some very tight scrapes before, and still have enough energy to banter Sam the entire walk back to the car or the motel or wherever they were staying or going.

_"Everyone can be taken down somehow."_

"Not Dean," Sam tried to say. He kept forgetting that he had no control over his voice, that he was just a vessel for something so bad that the world had to suffer for it.

_"Something you brought on Sammy,"_ Lucifer reminded him. _"Besides, your brother is just as human as everyone else. Just as weak and pathetic as every single human out there. He'll fall, no doubt about that. And when he does, well that'll just be one less abomination I have to deal with."_

Lucifer went silent, no laughter filling Sam's head that time. The young hunter shrank back into his dark prison, wishing there was a way he could end it all himself. He would pray, but God didn't answer the prayers of demonic scum. And that is what he was, just another demon; another demon that should be taken from the world and buried deep in the bowels of Hell.

And just as his will to fight suddenly sprung up it was quickly doused. All hope he had felt was lost, and he was once again wishing that someone would hurry up and just end it, take him away where he couldn't hurt anyone else. A part of him wished his father had just left him in his crib, all those years ago, and let him perish in that fire that took his mother. Then none of this ever would have happened.

"_Too bad Doloreans didn't exist, eh Sammy," _he could almost hear Dean say. _Yeah, Dean, too bad_, Sam thought bitterly and let his despair wash over him again. That was all he could do, bask in self pity until someone killed him. _And that is what I'll do._


	5. Chapter 5

**Not mine, happy reading…**

_**Supernatural**_

Dean tried to take in a breath, but the demon tightened his hold. The hunter tried to use his fingers to pry the beefy arm away from his neck, but that was a waste of energy. Instead he tried to reach into his pocket, hands tightened around his flask of holy water. He pulled out the silver flask, unscrewing it on the way, and tossed the contents over his shoulder, into the demon's face. It let him go, screaming in pain.

Dean fell to the ground, coughing and trying to take in air. He scrambled to his feet, the sounds of heavy footfalls running at him. He spun around, flinging the rest of the holy water at the guy. The guy's face started smoking, his hands covering his reddening skin. He quickly recovered, drilling his bolder sized fist into the side of Dean's head. Stars exploded behind the hunter's eyelids as his feet momentarily left the floor.

He slammed back into the wooden floor, the air knocked unceremoniously out of his lungs. Trying to take in another breath-already left nearly breathless from the near strangulation-Dean crab crawled away from the quickly approaching demon. As much as he knew he would regret it, the colt was in his hands and he had shot the demon in the heart.

It fell backwards, dead before it hit the ground. Dean got shakily to his feet, unsteady for a few seconds. He regained his balance, replacing the colt back in his coat pocket. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Sam say, "_Two bullets left_."

"You think," Dean snapped at his new found voice-or insanity. He ran a hand across his face, wondering how much more crap he had to go through before he actually succeeding in doing the one job he didn't want to do.

The phone rang, making him jump. He crossed the room, crouching down the scoop up the cell phone. As he straightened up, he checked the ID. It was Sam's number, Lucifer was calling again.

"You are starting to piss me off," Dean snapped as he unconsciously backed into a corner.

"I am offended you say that, Dean. I mean, I thought we were friends. I thought, you know, since you had a hand in my resurrection and I am technically your brother…"

"I'm going to find you," Dean growled keeping his eyes peeled for anymore demons.

"Oh, I am sure you will. I mean, you're the famous Dean Winchester. You can find anything, right?

"I'll make it easier on you, real easy. In three days time I plan to make a stop, a stop in a state you know well. I mean, I'm finished with the east. Right now, I am standing in the middle of Rigley Field, watching it burn. It's quite relaxing.

"Anyway, as I was saying. Three days from now, three long days, I will be spending some time in a small town. The one where this whole thing, you hunting, started. I know you are smart, unintelligence doesn't run in your family, so I can bet you've already figured it out."

"What the hell does Lawrence have to do with any of this?"

"I just like the name of the town. I knew a demon named Lawrence; he was a nasty piece of work. Was once a man. Made a deal to be a famous hotel owner, opened sixty branches worldwide, and ten years later dead. Found dead on the terrace of his condo, ripped open by unseen dogs. You know what that's like, don't you Dean…"

Dean vividly recalled the hellhounds, their grotesque bodies flying at him. He remembered their putrid breath, their sharp claws of death digging into him, blood everywhere. The pain was excruciating. The memories were assaulting his brain almost as bad as his time in Hell. Almost.

"You still there?" Lucifer's voice, Sam's voice, cut into his thoughts.

"Yeah, Lawrence in three days. I'll be there," Dean said through numb lips.

"Good, and don't use all those bullets before you get here." And with those words, spoken in the most cheerful voice Dean had ever heard someone close to death use, Lucifer hung up. Dean threw the phone across the room, never wanting to touch the thing again. He slid to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. He laid his head on his legs, wondering how in the hell he was going to kill someone who was twelve steps ahead of him.

"Maybe I could help," a voice said making his head snap up. One look at the person, standing in front of him, made his heart stop. There was no way he was there; he just got off the phone with the fallen angel possessing him. But Sam was there, hands in his pockets, that annoying smirk on his face.

"How…?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Can't have 'em if they are already owned…**

_**Supernatural**_

Dean scrambled to his feet, the sudden movement making the room spin. His right palm found the wall, steadying himself. Sam rushed forward to help, but Dean threw out his other hand stopping his brother in his tracks.

"Stay away from me," Dean snapped backing up until he was pressed against the wooden wall. He still held his arm out, keeping his faux brother at bay.

"Dean, I'm not Lucifer," Sam said keeping his distance. He tried to flash Dean one of his signature looks, the puppy dog look that always made Dean crack, but the older Winchester knew his brother wasn't real. Not real meant his brother's look would not work on him.

"Oh, yeah, because a few days ago you were possessed by him," Dean spat trying to back up more. The solid wall pretty much held anymore retreating at bay.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I am a hallucination?" Sam asked letting his puppy dog look drop. He was giving Dean the full on "bitch face" now.

"Hallu… what?"

"You know, something that isn't there, but you think is there." Sam was amused again, a small smile on his face.

"I know what a hallucination is," Dean snapped wondering why he was arguing with his brother. His brother that may or may not be his brother. "So, I'm making you up?"

"Sure, if that's how you want to look at it."

"Damn, my hallucinations suck," Dean muttered pushing himself away from the wall. He stepped toward his brother, lightly pushing Sam's shoulder with his hand. His brother moved slightly, making the younger Winchester glare.

"This is strange, really bizarre…"

"Let's marvel on how your mind works later, shall we? Right now, we have to head to Chicago." Sam headed towards the door. Dean quickly followed asking, "You honestly want me to go up against Lucifer?"

Sam stopped, spinning around and throwing his arms into the air, "Dean, you have to save me. KILL ME." Those two words made Dean flinch. Sam's voice softened as he continued, "I mean do you honestly want Lucifer hanging out in my body for the remainder of his existence. If you don't kill me the angels will. Do you think I would want some unknown, unemotional creature killing me? I would rather have my brother do it."

"You're a figment of my imagination, what do you know?"

Sam scoffed and continued to the Impala. It was almost like old times, except Sam was an imagined participant and Dean would have to kill the real one. _Definitely like old times_, Dean thought sarcastically.

Sam was already sitting in the passenger seat, flipping through the paper Dean had nearly forgotten he stole. The older Winchester sighed, wishing more than anything that the Sam in the passenger seat was the actual Sam. Knowing wishful thinking was for optimistic idealists, Dean decided to take what he had and pray he actually trusted himself and not some mind trick from Lucifer.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Chicago was a bust and Dean was tired. He had stopped at Rigley Field, now a pile of ashes. Firefighters were trying to put the fire out, but having several others to worry about they weren't doing such a great job.

"Well, this is just great," Sam muttered looking up at the smoldering remains.

"Well it was a long shot anyway," Dean said quietly putting the car back in drive and driving away from the field. He drove past broken buildings, dead and dying people sprawled across the street, abandoned cars. It looked just like Ohio, and Dean could feel the never ending nausea roaming through his body, the bile creeping up his esophagus.

"Maybe we should get a room somewhere away from the city," Sam suggested looking at the darkened city limits. No one was on the road; a place like Chicago was normally full of traffic. It was almost like a zombie movie. _Oh, yeah Dean, think about zombies now. That's what I really want to deal with now, zombies raised by Lucifer coming after me._

"You aren't funny," Sam muttered sounding as freaked out as Dean was.

"You're reading my thoughts again," Dean snapped. The entire car ride was the same, Sam reading every thought Dean had. Every thought. _It sucks having your brother as a hallucination_, crossed Dean's mind and Sam glared.

Both brothers fell silent, Dean concentrating on driving and Sam looking out the window. They drove out of Chicago, continuing to drive until Dean pulled into a smaller Illinois town. Lucifer hadn't touched the town, yet, the place actually looked like it had been taken from a hallmark card. The place was probably close knit, three-hundred plus people who knew each other and disliked strangers. Lucifer was one stranger they seemed to have missed.

"For now," Sam muttered. Dean decided to ignore his faux brother's comment, pulling up to the only motel in town. Dean opened the car door, the hinges loud amongst the silent night air. He stepped out of the car, breathing in the clean air that probably wouldn't be clean for long, and headed toward the office.

He opened the door, a small bell signaling his entrance, and stared at the desk. A small, wispy haired woman came out of the backroom holding a cup of steaming liquid.

"It smells like chamomile tea," Sam whispered in Dean's ear, causing him to jump.

"Oh, sweetie, did I scare you," the woman asked obviously not paying much attention.

Heart jumping like a scared jackrabbit, Dean walked up to the counter. The woman set her mug of tea down, giving him a warm, friendly, mothering smile. Her eyes were trying to mask the concern as she looked at him closely. He didn't even want to think how bad he looked. Bruised up, dark circles ringing his eyes, pale: he probably looked like a walking corpse.

"Not even close, Dude," Sam muttered. It took all of Dean's self control not to roll his eyes and glare.

"Are you okay, honey," the woman asked snapping him back to reality.

"What," Dean said looking at the woman. Her nametag declared her name was Pearl. Dean had never met a Pearl before, he figured since the world was ending he'd be meeting a bunch of people-with names unfamiliar to him-he'd never met before. Like a Meryl or a Carver or a Philip… so many names that existed, so many people he never met.

"Getting sentimental in your old age, bro," Sam said a smirk on his face.

"Um," Dean started clearing his throat. "Can I get a room?"

"Yes, Dear," she said and pulled out her guestbook. "You can pick any room you want, not many people want to stay here. All of my guests up and left after what happened in Chicago a few hours ago. It's a tragedy."

"Yeah, I saw," Dean whispered as he signed his name. He didn't even pay attention to what name he signed, he could have used his real name for all he knew. The woman took the book from him, saying, "Winchester?" So he did use his real name. _Crap,_ he thought. "My husband used to have one of those rifles, hunted everything from deer to bear. Used to have a stuffed bear in our living room, scared the crap out of me…

"Anyway," Pearl sighed shaking her head slowly, "two queens or one king?"

Automatically Dean said, "Two queens." He almost hit himself in the head, the fake Sam tricking his already exhausted brain. Instead of correcting himself, he just accepted the key Pearl held out to him. He paid for the room, in cash because he had no credit card with _Dean Winchester_ on it, and headed outside.

Before the door could close behind him, Pearl called him back. Dean turned, looking into the woman's pale, blue eyes. She gave him her warm smile and said, "God works in mysterious ways, Mr. Winchester." She then nodded at him, almost like dismissing him. Eyebrows rising in curiosity, Dean let the door close behind him.

"That was weird," Sam muttered as he headed to the passenger seat. Dean nodded, but silently wondered if he was dealing with another damn angel. They seemed to be everywhere these days. Uriel, Anna, Castiel, Zachariah… just thinking of the balding angel he wondered where he was.

"Probably hiding," Sam responded looking over the car's roof. His arms rested on the paint, his chin lying atop his hands. He was studying Dean, like he always did. It was irritating, even if he was a hallucination.

"Who knows," Dean muttered getting behind the wheel of the car. Sam slid into the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. The older Winchester started the car and drove closer to his room, room eleven. He stopped, turning his Impala off.

"So, Lucifer will be in Lawrence in a few days," Sam commented. Dean could feel his brother's eyes on him, but he kept his gaze out the window.

"Yep," he replied opening the car door. Not only did he not want to talk about Lucifer's next escapade, he didn't want to talk about it to his faux brother. So he headed to the trunk, unlocking it. He extracted his bag, his hand brushing against Sam's.

_"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back_," the words circled his head. Each one another blow to his already battered psyche. He took a deep, shuddering breath, grabbed the weapons bag, and slammed the trunk closed.

"I know you didn't mean that," Sam said, appearing at his side. Dean jumped, wondering if he'd ever get used to his brother appearing out of nowhere.

"Did you get used to the angels appearing out of nowhere?" Sam asked a smirk on his face. Like always, Dean wished he could slap the smirk off his brother's face. That thought only made hallucination Sam smile wider.

"I got used to Cass," Dean muttered and headed toward the passenger seat. He pulled Sam's computer-_correction, my computer_-out of the passenger seat. He was awaiting his brother's whiney tone, his face set in the full on "bitch face" mode, saying, "Don't be looking up porn, Dean. If I have to get one more e-mail about _Busty Asian Beauties_, I am going to change all my passwords. I mean it."

"Would you like me to say that," Faux Sam asked softly.

"No, you aren't him. It wouldn't be the same," Dean replied slinging the messenger bag over his shoulder. He locked up the Impala and headed toward the room. With his hands full, it took a few tries to get the room unlocked. Sam offered, but Dean merely glared at him. Finally he was able to get inside the room.

The place was clean, bright, the walls painted Lavender. The carpet was a darker purple, closer to violet. The bedspreads matched the carpet, just like the table against the only window. Three lighter purple chairs surrounded the table, and a lavender couch sat a few feet from the table. The TV was setting on a dark purple television stand, the remote lying on a coffee table.

Dean set the weapons' bag and Sam's messenger bag on the table; he dropped his bag by the couch. He turned back to the green weapons' bag, pulling out the canister of salt he kept in it. He salted the door and the window. He headed deeper into the room, putting a salt circle around the beds. After that, he headed into the bathroom.

Flipping on the light revealed a contrast from the front room. Where the front room was dedicated to the color purple, the bathroom was a bright orange. Everything was orange, down to the tiles spread across the floor. The tiles were set up in almost a checker board pattern: dark orange and light orange.

As Dean crossed the room, he couldn't help counting the tiles. Light orange, dark orange, light orange, dark orange… fifteen tiles brought him to the bathtub. He climbed into it, salting the lone window. It looked large enough for him to fit through, just in case he ran into trouble.

Once the entire room was salted to Dean's liking, he headed back into the front room. Stashing the salt into the weapons' bag, he pulled his jacket off and threw it over the couch. He picked up his duffle and carried it to one of the beds. He dropped it onto the purple covers, opening it to reveal his meager belongings.

He was digging through his stuff, looking for clothes to sleep in, when his phone rang. Before he could pull the electronic out, he heard a voice say, "Dean, turn on the news.

He spun around, heart pounding so hard in his chest he was sure it was about to pop out, and saw Anna standing next to the television. She had it on, flipping through the channels. She stopped on a news station, the reporter standing out front a very familiar house.

"…cause of the fire is unknown. The police are reluctant to give any more details on the situation. More at eleven." The camera flicked back to the station and Anna turned the television off. Dean settled onto his bed, burying his face in his hands. He was vaguely aware of his phone ringing again, but he just didn't want to deal with it.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Anna said quietly sitting next to him. There was nothing else to say, he was dead and Dean didn't stop it. The man was a great hunter, Dean knew him for a long time. He had taught the young hunter how to fight; he had twenty years experience on John. Tears formed in Dean's eyes, stinging as he tried to hold them at bay.

"Death is just the next step…"

"Don't give me that angelic Yoda crap," Dean snapped jumping to his feet. The room was blurry, unshed tears still holding on for dear life. He started pacing, wringing his hands. His phone started ringing again. He pulled it out, reading the caller ID.

"Yeah," he snapped wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Yeah, I saw." He listened to the other voice, "Of course it was Lucifer or his demon minions." More listening and finally he said, "I am going to kill him. Sam doesn't deserve to live like that. Thanks." He hung up tossing his phone onto the other bed. He randomly yanked out a set of clothes and headed toward the bathroom.

"What are you doing," Anna asked sounding worried.

"I'm going to shower, get a couple hours sleep, and head out before sunrise," Dean replied and closed the door behind him.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Anna heard the water start running and settled back on the bed. She volunteered to deliver the news, Cass said he would, but she turned him down. She just wanted to make sure Dean was okay, he hadn't called since he left. Cass told her it was because Dean needed to do things alone, that he didn't need help. But Anna wouldn't hear it. Now, seeing how torn up he was about His death, Anna wished Cass would have taken the job.

Castiel would have delivered the bad news, gave some angelic wisdom, gotten yelled at, and left. Anna, on the other hand, felt obligated to make sure Dean was okay. She just couldn't let Dean be alone; he would probably try something stupid without her there.

Ten minutes later, the water turned off. It was quiet for a few moments then the door opened and Dean walked out. His hair was wet, glistening in the motel's fluorescent lights. He had changed into a clean pair of holey jeans and a gray tee-shirt. He carried his dirty clothes to his bag, stuffing them amongst the mess.

He threw his boots and bag onto the floor and crawled past Anna, onto the bed. She stayed where she was, listening to him feign sleep. It was a full twenty minutes before his breath evened out and he actually fell asleep.

There was a light knock on the door, Anna slowly stood up and walked toward the door. She looked through the peephole, Castiel standing behind the door, and she opened the door.

Castiel crossed the threshold, stepping over the salt line without a problem, and gently closed the door behind him.

"Why are you knocking," Anna asked quietly knowing for a fact that Cass never had a reason to knock before. He never really thought about appearing out of nowhere, either.

"I didn't want to disrupt anything," Castiel said crossing the room to sit on the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees, looking at the blank television screen.

"You're funny, Cass," Anna responded sarcastically, crossing her arms. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you delivered the message."

"Yes, I did. I don't see why he had to know now."

"It was to fuel his anger. His death, that blow, should be enough to get Dean to do what has to be done. He was a friend of theirs, a good friend."

"Which is why you should've waited to tell him…"

"No, that is why I had to tell him. Or we had to tell him."

"Hasn't studying the human race taught you anything, Cass? Especially Dean. Going in angry will only get him killed. Blind anger is the downfall of most people…"

"I think pride destroys souls quicker than anger," Castiel muttered averting his eyes from Anna's glare. She sighed, mumbling, "Why does he need an angel posted here? Why can't we watch over him?"

"Because we have other work to do. If The Colt doesn't work, we need to have a backup plan…"

"If The Colt doesn't work? Castiel you were so sure The Colt was going to work two days ago."

"The Colt," Castiel started. He sighed and said, "The Colt kills anything evil. Lucifer is evil, but for all intents and purposes he is also an angel. The Colt doesn't work on angels, so it may or may not work on him."

"What do you plan to do if it doesn't work? Do you plan on having Dean get out of that situation by himself?" Anna was slowly starting to get frustrated with her 'brother'. The way he was talking, the way he was thinking, sounded like he was suggesting he'd rather see Dean die than have Lucifer live.

"I don't want to see Dean die. Far from it, but I can't face Lucifer again."

"Then I'll save Dean, I'll make sure he doesn't die. If I have to, I'll hold Lucifer off as long as possible. Just so Dean can get away."

"Anna," Cass started in a warning tone.

"Is that all you wanted, Castiel," she asked walking to the door. She had her hand on the knob, ready to open it, but Cass's voice stopped her. "Don't stay with him too long, we have to be ready for anything.

"Oh, and he'll probably need this," Castiel set something onto the coffee table. The sound of flapping wings was the only indication of Castiel's departure.

Anna turned around to see him gone, no trace of the dark haired angel anywhere. He had left Ruby's knife on the coffee table, the blade shining in the light.

She sighed locking the door. She picked up the knife, stashing it in Dean's weapon bag. Afterward, she crossed the room to the beds, pulling the blankets off the unoccupied bed. She threw them over Dean and settled at the foot of the bed.

In sleep the older Winchester looked a lot younger than his thirty years. He also looked less burdened, less wound up, more human. But only in sleep. It killed Anna to see the hollowed look in Dean's eyes, to know that he had to do something he didn't want to.

_Getting sentimental in my old age_, she thought getting to her feet. She crossed the motel room, stopping in front of the television. She wondered what else was going on in the world, what else Lucifer had done, but was too scared to find out. Knowing no one ever got anywhere being scared, she flipped on the TV and began to watch.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

_ Dean stood in the pit, knife in hand, looking at his brother. Sam was strung up, his arms and feet chained to a wooden cross. Dean looked into his brother's once bluish-green eyes, but they weren't his anymore._

_ "Do it, Winchester. Kill the only person you've ever truly cared about," Sam's voice snapped. It wasn't even him speaking anymore; the voice was too brutal, too evil. Dean felt his hand tremble, but he managed to slam Ruby's knife into Sam's heart._

_ Sam gurgled, blood dripping onto the cement floor as his head fell forward. Dean pulled the knife out, his brother's blood coating the blade, and let it fall to the floor. He couldn't believe he did it, couldn't believe he murdered his own brother…_

_ "Not quite, Bucko," Lucifer snarled looking up. The room flashed pure white momentarily and when it all settled, Dean found himself chained to the cross. Sam was standing next to him, Ruby's knife held firmly in his hand._

_ "This is for stabbing me," Lucifer said slamming the knife into Dean's side. Dean cried out, white hot pain erupting all over his body. Lucifer yanked the knife out, wiping the blood on Dean's shirt._

_ "And this is for the hell of it." The knife was thrust into Dean's chest, inches from the heart. He coughed, blood coating his lips. "Any last words, Dean," Lucifer asked his eyes flashing from blue-green to bright white and back again._

_ "Sammy, please," Dean begged._

_ "Sammy doesn't live here anymore," Lucifer murmured and shoved the knife through Dean's heart…_

Dean jerked awake, the word "NO!" barely escaping his lips. He pushed the blankets off of him, limbs shaking like crazy, and raced into the bathroom. He fell to his knees, skidding to a halt in front of the toilet. He pulled the lid up and dry heaved, bringing up bile. His stomach had nothing else to bring up, having not eaten an entire meal since before his and Sam's fight.

He felt a pair of hands rubbing small circles into his back, the touch vaguely familiar, but not the one he wanted. When he could no longer bring up the nasty yellow liquid, he pulled away from the porcelain puke bucket. The warm hands helped him lean against the wall, her voice finally breaking through his muddled brain.

"…okay. It's going to be okay," Anna kept muttering. She was still rubbing his back, trying to slow his breathing down. They sat like that for twenty minutes as Dean slowly calmed down. His nightmare was still etched into his mind, but he was more able to cope with it, Dean pushed himself to his feet.

"Are you going to be okay?" Anna asked quietly, getting up herself.

"Honestly," he responded as he flushed the toilet. He headed toward the sink; avoiding his reflection, he turned the water on, "No." he rinsed his mouth out and twisted the faucet off. He turned to face her, his hands still shaking slightly.

"I hate to leave you while you are this upset, but I've got to help Cass," Anna said sounding disgruntled with her departure. Dean could tell that she'd rather stick with him, watch him like some vigilant baby-sitter. It took all his self-control not to snap at her, to tell her that he hadn't needed a sitter since he had been seven. But, he knew she cared for him-that very few people did now a days-and refrained from screaming at her. Instead he said, "Leaving so soon?"

"I won't be far," she replied crossing her arms. "Just call if you need me, I'll be there in a flash."

"Okay," he muttered leaning against the sink. She nodded and then disappeared, her wings as invisible as most angels' emotions. Dean took a deep, shuddering breath, and headed toward the front room. It was still dark outside, a quick look at his watch claiming he only gotten a few hours sleep. How he could sleep at all was bewildering to him.

Dean settled on his bed, pulling his boots out from under the second bed. He pulled them on, wondering when his hallucination was about to show up_. _He wasn't about to mention it to anyone, but he would rather talk to the fake Sam than be by himself.

"Oh, I missed you too," Sam said making Dean jump. He turned around, faux Sam lounging on the bed opposite him. He was smirking, hands behind his head, looking directly at Dean.

Sighing in annoyance, not even wanting his hallucination to know how sappy he was, he crossed the room stopping at the table. He settled into one of the seats, pulling Sam's computer out of its bag.

"What are you doing," Sam asked curiously, settling in the chair next to Dean.

"I am going to try and track Lucifer down," Dean muttered booting up the laptop. He waited the few seconds it took for the computer to come to life, and then logged onto the internet.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"You can read my mind, you tell me," Dean snapped typing in Google's web address. Sam huffed in frustration, but didn't say another word. Dean was thankful for the silence, sorta, and typed in _Country Wide Destruction_. Several things popped up, most as recent as two hours before hand. Dean clicked onto the recent stuff, the screen popping up on a news site.

He skimmed the articles, wondering how so much damage could be done in such a short time. When he came to the ending of the last one, learning that Wisconsin and Michigan had been nearly wiped off the map, he learned that Lucifer was headed west. He, of course, already knew what direction Lucifer was heading; he just didn't know the state.

"Iowa," Sam muttered leaning over him.

"Are you sure?"

"Either that or Missouri," Sam muttered. When Dean gave a questioning glare, he continued, "Both are the closest to Illinois. Unless he plans to teleport-or whatever he does-to Minnesota, I'm betting he's heading to one of those states."

"I can't check them both," Dean said starting to feel a pit of hopelessness settling in his stomach.

"Narrow it down," Sam responded going back to the search engine. He typed in _Recent_ after what Dean had already typed in and the searches narrowed down to almost an hour ago. "Missouri it is."

"Let's go," Dean said pushing himself to his feet. He closed the computer lid, stashing it back in its bag. He headed toward his bed, nabbing his duffle bag off the floor. He pulled out his blue shirt, threw it on and zipped up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He picked his phone up, off the nightstand-figuring Anna had moved it while he slept-grabbed his keys and the motel key from the coffee table by the couch, picked up his jacket, and headed out.

"Dean, are you sure this is a good plan?" Sam asked trying to keep up with his brother's quick step.

"What other choice do I have? Wait for Lucifer to destroy more lives until I can meet him in Kansas? No, I want this over with as soon as possible." Dean stashed his stuff in the backseat of the car and drove it toward the office. The light was on, revealing that either Pearl was still working or someone else had taken over.

"Yes, I get that, but you are essentially going in blind," Sam tried to argue. Dean merely ignored him as he exited the car; he made sure he had his Colt 1911, The Colt, and Ruby's knife on him. He couldn't remember packing the knife, but there it was in his weapons bag.

He walked toward the office, wondering if he could persuade Pearl to leave and go home. To be with her family. Lucifer was probably saving the small town for later and it probably would do Pearl some good before the inevitable happened. Dean opened the door, knowing something was wrong without seeing anything.

He rushed toward the desk, looking over the edge to see Pearl, the wispy haired woman who he believed may or may not be an angel, lying in a pool of her own blood. It looked like something was shoved through her windpipe, killing her almost instantly.

"Holy crap," Sam muttered appearing at Dean's side. Dean didn't have time to be startled as he stepped around the desk. He crouched down next to Pearl, wondering what had killed her.

"That would be me," a familiar voice said. Dean stood up coming face-to-face with the one angel he didn't want to see.

Zachariah was standing in the office doorway, still wearing the balding man's body, his arms crossed. He looked slightly more harried from the last time Dean saw him, almost four days before hand.

"What the hell did you kill her for," Dean snapped glaring at the man.

"She was working for Castiel, she was about to call him, I had to stop her," Zachariah replied. "Besides," he was wearing the most psychotic smile Dean had ever seen him wear. "I couldn't quite let you kill Lucifer, yet. He hasn't even gotten started."

"What do you plan to do, Zach, hold me captive again?"

"Something like that," Zachariah said and he was standing directly in front of Dean in seconds. He reached out, laying his hand on Dean's forehead. Unlike getting the sleeping mojo from Cass, the one that just knocked him out, he started to feel a deep pressure building in the back of his head. He knew something was up, that Zach was planning something.

Dean fell to his knees, the pressure getting worse. The room starting to dim, the hunter knew he was about to pass out. Before that could happen, however, a loud intake of breath filled the room. Zachariah's hand left his head, sending Dean to his side. He scrambled up in time to see Castiel, standing directly behind his superior, holding a long sword like knife. The knife was dripping blood, the blade protruding out of the older angel's neck.

Cass pulled the blade out, causing Zachariah to fall to the floor. A bright light started to erupt out of the older angel's eyes. Dean knew, from his many dealings with angels, that closing his eyes would be a good idea. It wasn't until Castiel had pulled him to his feet and yanked him out the door that a little eye covering wasn't what was needed.

They were barely ten feet from the entrance when a bright light exploded throughout the building. Dean mostly saw the light between closed eyelids, the back of them turning a brilliant orange before going dark once more.

"W…what the hell was that," he asked opening his eyes to see Cass staring at him.

"That was the death of an angel," Castiel replied and disappeared before Dean could say anything else. Breathing heavily, still not sure what happened, Dean got behind the wheel of the Impala and took off. He had a fallen angel to catch and a disobedient angel to grill once this was over.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

It was mid-afternoon by the time Dean had searched both Iowa and Missouri. Except for a pile of dead and dying bodies, a few burning establishments, and a lot of desolation he found no sign of Lucifer. He was heading toward Minnesota when his stomach growled. He dug around the backseat, finding a half eaten bag of Funyens. He had no idea how long they had been back there, but he was hungry and had no time to stop and get something to eat. One bite told him they were at least a week old.

"Nothing like stale snack foods to keep you going," Sam said from the passenger seat. He was just as bad as the real Sam, sulking when he found out his theory was a dead end. Dean couldn't help but give his brother a ghost of his old smirk.

"I am not sulking," Sam grumbled crossing his arms and staring broodingly out the window. They drove in silence the rest of the ride, not really sure what to say to each other. When they reached Minnesota, it was their first break. The first few miles of the state were about as bad as the east, but deeper in showed them how close they were. It was only the start of the destruction.

"I think we found him," Dean muttered. He was coasting through the state, hoping he wasn't spotted by any demons. Several things happened at once a few seconds later. Two people jumped out in front of his car, Dean squealed to a halt before hitting them, and Sam disappeared.

Before Dean could even wonder where his brother had gone, he noticed the black flashes of the two demons' eyes. _Crap,_ he thought as he threw his car in reverse and tried to back up. Whatever powers the demons had, kept his car from going anywhere.

"They get a power boost," Dean mumbled still trying to move his car. "That is so not freaking fair." He never got any more chances to complain about how powerful the demons had gotten. His car door was wrenched open and he was flung, unceremoniously from his car. He landed onto the ground, the road cutting up his arms.

The two demons were heading toward Dean; both looking like Christmas-_or in their case Halloween_-had come early that year. _This just sucks…_


	7. Chapter 7

**One chapter left. I still own nothing…**

_**Supernatural**_

Sam knew Lucifer was smirking, could feel the muscles in his jaw working against his will. Both he and the fallen angel were sitting on the edge of a four story apartment building, boots dangling off the roof, watching the fight.

"This proves nothing," Sam snapped watching as his brother was yanked to his feet. He was thrown into the Impala, the air clearly knocked out of him.

_"I think it proves everything, Sammy_," Lucifer replied taking a sip of his beer. The liquid rolled down Sam's esophagus, into his stomach.

"What do you mean?" the younger Winchester asked. Below Dean was struggling to fight both demons at once. He had fired off three shots from his Colt 1911, hitting one of the demons in the chest. He staggered back, blood seeping through the wounds.

"_I'd like to know what I'm up against. My competition. The man the angels, my brethren, believe can stop me. Your memories are good, Sammy, but not good enough. I need to see your brother in action._"

"Why, so you can kill him later?" Sam wished he hadn't of asked, he didn't want to see Dean die. Especially when Sam's face would be the last thing he saw.

"_I don't want to kill him, not yet anyway. He could still be useful and it's so much fun screwing with him. But, when the time comes, I want to be ready for anything. And by watching him now, I think I will be."_ Lucifer went silent, sipping his beer.

Both watched the fight go on for a few more moments, Dean having successfully used Ruby's knife-just the thought of the brunette demon sent a jolt of pain through Sam's heart-to kill one of the demons. Before he could use it to kill the other, it was knocked out of his hands. Dean scrambled to get it, but the demon had already grabbed him by the throat. He knocked the hunter into the ground, Sam's stomach clenching, and tried to strangle the older Winchester.

"CALL HIM OFF," Sam tried to beg. Lucifer just laughed and said, "_Give Dean a moment_." And that's when Sam heard it, the unmistakable sound of a gun going off. Not just any gun either. The demon was pushed off of Dean, dead as a doornail.

Dean lied on the ground for a few moments, trying to get his breath back. Lucifer didn't wait for the hunter to get up; he tossed his beer bottle over the edge of the building and stood up. He jumped back onto the cement roof of the building, walking toward the doorway leading down.

"_You know, Sam, the more I learn about you the more intriguing you become_," he commented opening the door and heading down the steps. He slowly started trailing his hand across the bumpy surface of the wall. Instead of asking what the fallen angel was doing, Sam asked, "How so?" he immediately regretted asking, but he couldn't take back the question.

"_Well, for one, your soul's as tarnished as they come_." Lucifer stopped at the foot of the fourth floor staircase. His hand still rested on the wall. If Sam didn't know any better, he could see smoke seeping out of the paint from the contact. The fallen angel didn't comment on it, just continued walking and talking. "_Second, everyone you love dies_.

"_Yes_," Lucifer mumbled still trailing his hand along the wall, the smoke getting worse and worse, "_everyone. Your mother, lovely Mary Winchester, died when you were six months. Twenty-two years later Jessica Moore was killed. Azazel took out both of those women from you. Then your father, about a year after Jessica; wasn't, he too, helped along by Azazel. After Jessica you met Madison, a werewolf no doubt, an immediate attraction, someone who could be the next woman that took your heart. But, as I said, 'she was a werewolf' which meant you had to kill her. Shot her in the heart with your brother's gun_.

"_After_ _her death, came your brother's. And his has got to be the most tragic, seeing as he technically died for you. That and, well Lilith needed him_…"

"Why?" Sam questioned suddenly more intrigued than he'd ever been with the fallen angel. Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head slightly. He was silent continuing toward the exit. The building was now full of smoke, slowly starting to rumble.

"What are you doing," Sam snapped losing patience with the fallen angel.

"_Just having some fun_," Lucifer replied as the building began to fall. Before it could crush them, the angel disappeared and reappeared a few yards away. He watched his work for a moment, the dust taking over the entire street. Sam tried to see if Dean was still around the area or not, but he couldn't see amongst the wreckage.

"_What was a saying_," Lucifer mumbled in mock wonder. He turned away from the mess, heading down the street. "_Oh, yes. Lilith wanted Dean in Hell. She had a plan for him. Didn't anyone tell you? I was sure I heard whispers that Alastair had told your brother before his unfortunate demise." _Sam remembered killing Alastair without even a second thought about the human he was possessing.

"_Oh, don't worry Sammy, demons never think about the person they are riding, either. It's just in their nature_."

"I am not like them," Sam snarled wanting to clench his fists.

"_Oh, you are_," Lucifer said in a matter of fact voice. "_But that wasn't our conversation. Our conversation was about Dean. Yes, Lilith needed him in Hell. She needed him to do something for her. Well, for me… See, originally it was supposed to be your dad. Johnny was supposed to crack, was supposed to do it_."

"Do what?" Sam was scared, which made him want to laugh. He didn't think anything else could make him scared.

"_Oh, to break the first seal. You know how Dean told you he tortured souls in Hell. I know you know because I can see it in your head. Anyway, your dad was supposed to do it. But, he had a will no other soul could compete with. If he hadn't of crawled out of the gate when he did, well I still believe he would be still fighting down there. But when Dean went down there, when that weakling broke after thirty years, well that was the first seal_."

"What?" Sam knew for a fact, that if he had control over his body, his jaw would be hanging open. Never, in his life, would he believe Dean could screw up as much as Sam himself had. He also didn't want to think how much trouble Dean was in or how many hunters would try to kill him.

"_I guess he didn't want his little brother to be disappointed in him_," Lucifer commented a smile in his voice. Sam didn't reply. He felt like a ton of bricks had settled in his stomach. He just couldn't understand why Dean would hide this from him. Of course, he had kept plenty of secrets from Dean. His brother probably kept his involvement hidden for the same reason Sam kept quiet about Ruby and him.

"_Speaking of Ruby_," Lucifer butted into his thoughts, sounding as gleeful as any fallen angel could. _"She's another one who died because you loved her. Deep down, Sammy, I know you did. Of course, she also brought upon her own death. Betraying you like that._" He shook his head, hopping onto the sidewalk. He started running his hand across buildings, every time he touched one it began to smoke.

Sam paid no attention to the fallen angel, he just let everything he had heard run through his head. Not only was he a major screw up, he didn't even give Dean an opening to tell him about his own screw up. Besides that, he had fallen in love with a demon, one who had majorly manipulated him. He was contemplating suicide by the time Lucifer finished with his fun and moved on to the next town. Ready to destroy more lives. _What have I done_?

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Dean was bleeding, his ribs hurt, and he was pissed that he had used another bullet from The Colt. He was speeding away from the fight, leaving the dead demons lying on the ground, when the buildings started collapsing in on themselves. He skidded to a halt, quickly getting out of the Impala, and spinning around to watch the damage.

People were screaming, dust was soaring all over the place, and Dean didn't know what to do. He wanted to go help as many people as possible, but he wasn't sure where to start or what was lurking in the shadows. Before his mind could be made up, the buildings all stopped falling, rubble covering the streets, and all screaming was cut off.

"Dean, get in the car and start looking for Lucifer," Sam's voice snapped in his ear. He quickly slid behind the wheel of his Impala, peeling away from the wreckage.

"Start heading toward Kansas," Sam said keeping his eyes glued straight ahead.

"Why?"

"Because we have always been twelve steps behind Lucifer. We know where he'll be in a few days, maybe we can trap him."

"Yeah, because he won't see any trap I set," Dean grumbled. Sam flashed him his bitch face, Dean rolled his eyes, and the car started heading toward Lawrence. The first half of the ride was silent, Dean really having nothing to say to his hallucination and faux Sam having nothing to contribute without being addressed first. But the silence got to be too much for Dean, so he said, "There's one bullet left, you know?"

"I'm aware, Dean," Sam replied his chin resting in his palm, elbow propped up on the windowsill. He was watching the scenery fly by.

"It's like hunting old Yellow Eyes again," Dean muttered.

"Except we have The Colt in our possession. Last time we didn't have it."

"Yeah, but there was still one bullet left. This means I only have one shot at hitting Lucifer. If I miss, then I am definitely screwed."

"Yep, that's true," Sam replied still watching the scenery. That was it for conversation. Dean dug out his Black Sabbath tape and popped it in the tape player. War Pigs started blaring through the speakers, giving Dean something else to concentrate on than thinking about what he was about to do.

He had gotten through War Pigs, Iron Man, and Paranoid when Faux Sam flipped the music off and said, "Do you have a plan?" Dean kept his eyes on the road, knowing what Sam meant. He couldn't wing it, Lucifer would be ready for practically anything. _Of course, if I do wing it then he won't know what I was planning_…

"Dean, you can't wing it," Sam scoffed rolling his eyes. "Lucifer won't hesitate to kill you if you aren't prepared."

"Sam, quit worrying. I'll think of something," Dean retorted and flicked the radio back on. Sabbath filled the car once more and all conversation was cut off. Dean was sure he heard the Faux Sam scoff, but ignored it as he let the music fill his mind. Let himself relax and not think about anything, to believe it was just like old times. Just for the time being.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

It was the longest two days of Dean's life. Twice he almost went out, looking for Lucifer, but Faux Sam had told him to stick to Lawrence. He had kept himself hidden in an empty house, a few blocks from his old house. Dean knew that Jenny had taken her kids to their grandparents in England-her husband's parents from the European country. For that Dean was grateful, he didn't want to have to work around them.

He had set up every trap he knew, all over the house. Hoping beyond hope that one of them would work. All over again, he learned every square inch of the house, every hiding place. He learned every entrance, every exit, everything. There was nothing about that house that he didn't know when he was done.

That took all of twelve hours. After that he was just going over makeshift graphs he had drawn up on scrap paper from his car. Faux Sam told him to keep up the planning, he thought he was being overly prepared. But in the end he knew he was going to be ready for anything-he hoped.

The day finally came, Dean was shaking when he entered the house for he hoped was the last time. He had cleaned his guns, went over the traps one last time, and went over the plan for what felt like the fifty-billionth time the night before. He hoped he was ready, really, really hoped. All he had to do was wait for the fallen angel.

Dean hid in the bathroom on the second floor, waiting for Lucifer to arrive. He heard the door open, banging on the wall. Someone was walking around downstairs, the floor board almost inaudibly creaking. Dean was wondering when his traps would begin working.

"Probably not yet," Sam whispered in his ear. Dean didn't respond, hearing someone start climbing the steps. He listened to the sound of footsteps walking past the door, stopping in front of the room a few feet from it. There was silence then the door opened and closed and the footsteps were gone.

"You're on," Sam said and practically pushed Dean out of the room. Dean walked toward Sam's old room, feeling a pit slowly digging in his stomach. He slowly reached for the doorknob, his hands shockingly still, and opened the door.

Sam/Lucifer was standing in the middle of the room, directly underneath the trap Dean had drawn. His brother's blue-green eyes were turned on Dean, a small smile on his face. Dean tried to keep the old Sam out of his mind, tried to convince himself that that was not Sam anymore

"Going to kill me, Winchester." the familiar voice sent a chill down Dean's spine. He raised The Colt, hands shaking, and whispered, "I'm sorry." Then he pulled the trigger.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you can, and see ya in the next story. I still own nothing…**

**Bye…**

_**Supernatural**_

The pyre burned, the flames warming his face. He had his hands in his pockets-or hand. His right arm was in a sling. He would never really understand how he survived. He was capable of remembering the beginning, but the ending was a complete blur.

_Blue-green eyes were looking directly at him when he pulled the trigger. The bullet had pierced Sam's heart, but Lucifer didn't fall. He just looked down at the wound and said, "Ow." He then threw Dean into a wall, without touching him._

_ The drywall had cracked, pain shooting through his body. He struggled to his feet, his leg shaking violently. Lucifer smiled and threw him, again with his mind, through the closet doors. That was when Dean felt his arm pop out of place. He held in a scream, trying to get up. The room was spinning slightly, making him feel like he was going to get sick._

_ "Shocked, are you?" Lucifer walked toward him, pulling him up by the hair. Before Dean could answer, his head was slammed into the drywall of the closet. Blood slowly started dripping down his face, but that didn't stop Lucifer from attacking him a second time. The second blow made Dean's ears start ringing._

_ "Oops," Lucifer muttered letting the hunter fall to the floor. The place was spinning worse and he wasn't even standing._

_ "You know, Dean, I always wanted to earn the trust of a gullible, stupid hunter," Lucifer had said. He rolled Dean over, a small smile on his face. "Did you really think your brother was just a figment of your useless imagination?" he never gave Dean a chance to reply, just drilled his foot into Dean's side._

_ The hunter started coughing, trying to draw in a breath. Lucifer didn't give him a chance to regain his breathing just kicked the hunter again. He kicked him a third time and then stepped back. Dean was coughing, the taste of blood in the back of his throat._

_ "I mean, I have powers no hunter has ever come up against. None. And all I had to do was pretend to be your brother, use his useless memories and your thoughts against you. You were so lonely, so upset with what you had to do, that you were ready to believe your mind made me up."_

_ "You…you were…?"_

_ "Sammy? Yes, Dean, I was Sammy." Lucifer crouched next to Dean's head, the blood from his wound soaking Sam's shirt. He reached into Dean's pocket, pulling out his gun. The fallen angel weighed it in his hand, looking at the freshly cleaned weapon, and stood up. He pointed it at Dean and fired, the bullet piercing his already hurt leg. Dean screamed, clutching his bleeding appendage._

_ "Sorry about that," Lucifer muttered throwing the gun across the room. He walked back toward The Devil's Trap, looking up at it. "Never really liked these things; they were always the downfall of all my demons." He shook his head turning to look at Dean._

_ The room was slowly dimming, making Dean seriously doubt he was going to stay awake. He tried to tap into the Winchester stubbornness, hoping that would help him stay conscious._

_ Lucifer sighed, crossing the room back to Dean. He sat next to the hunter and said, "Do you want me to let Sam go?" Dean didn't need to nod, he knew Lucifer knew he wanted nothing more than to have his brother back._

_ "Okay, I'll leave him. He was getting boring anyway. And I am feeling generous, so I won't even kill you either. Not today." Lucifer got to his feet, looking down at the hunter. His face was getting blurry; Dean wasn't sure how long he could hold on. "But keep in mind, Winchester, when I see you again I won't hesitate to kill you." And with that blinding white light erupted through the room. Dean shielded his eyes, not opening them until he heard a body hit the ground._

_ He looked over, seeing his brother lying deathly still. "Sam," Dean said in a hoarse voice. He dragged himself across the room, leaving a blood trail in his wake. "Sammy, wake up." He reached his brother, not even sure he was alive. He touched his brother's face, hoping to get a response. He got nothing._

_ "Come on, Sammy. You've gotta wake up," Dean begged tears forming in his eyes. "Please wake up." The room was becoming fuzzy; he couldn't hold himself up anymore. He fell onto his side, whispering, "Wake up." The last thing he remembered was a pair of feet approaching him…_

The fire was almost out; he looked across the pyre at Bobby. The older hunter was still reeling from Jefferson's death. John had always predicted that Jeff would be the first to die. He was always jumping into situations without thinking, but no one thought he'd die from a fire. They always figured he'd go down fighting.

Dean felt someone stop by his side. The person's shoulder touched his, the familiar touch making his head reel from what he almost lost. If Castiel hadn't of showed up when he did, if he hadn't of brought Sam back, Dean was sure his brother's body would be the one burning.

They stood in silence, watching the fire die down, and then started to head back to Bobby's house. Bobby mumbled something about fixing dinner, but Dean knew it was useless. Neither him nor Sam were about to eat any of it. They haven't been capable since after Lucifer disappeared.

Dean settled on the couch once they entered the house, his leg still hurting from the bullet wound. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He felt Sam sit next to him. Without opening his eyes he said, "We're going to have to leave soon."

"Yeah, I know," Sam responded. They had no idea where Lucifer was, he had gone quiet since leaving Sam's body. They had to start tracking him down, after they figured out a way to kill him.

"This fight is going to suck," Dean commented feeling himself start to drift off.

"No doubt," Sam agreed settling back, too. Dean could tell his brother was about to go to sleep, too. He knew for a fact that once his brother went to sleep, like he himself would, Sam would wake up from a nightmare. They both had had nightmares; both had woken up and stayed awake for several hours over the last two days. They mostly talked, mostly discussed tactics, both just happy the other one was okay for the time being.

Both knew their relationship was far from patched up. Their last fight was still etched into their brains. Deep down both were still angry at one another, but eventually it would die down and they'd be _nearly_ back to normal. _But what is normal anyway_, Dean thought as he drifted off.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Bobby walked into the living room, about twenty minutes later, to find both brothers crashed on the couch. Dean was using Sam's shoulder as a pillow, while Sam's arm rested against Dean's leg. Bobby crossed the room, picking a blanket off the foot of the couch. He unfolded it, throwing it over both brothers.

He stepped back, studying them for a moment. He had a flash back to two little boys crashed on his couch, the older one six, the younger one two. They were so innocent back then. And just like that, the small boys he had helped raise turned back into their older counterparts. Both would never be that innocent again, never.

Hating to think about the weight that rested on the Winchester boys' shoulders, but still knowing he had to, Bobby walked back into the kitchen. He settled at the kitchen table, pulling a bunch of newspapers toward him, and started to search them. He had a fallen angel to find.

THE END…


End file.
